Love’s Obstacles
by hopeintheproles
Summary: WarrenLayla. The thing about guys is that they can’t process their actions, so they end up being ignorant half the time.


Love's Obstacles

General POV

The thing about guys is that they can't process their actions, so they end up being ignorant half the time.

She sidles up to him and takes his hand, he's busy, talking to other classmates of course, and pushes her, unaware of his super strength.

She falls to the ground, and stays there for a second or two, staring at her hands. She pushes herself up, dusts off her pants, and looks around. No one notices, they are all quite blinded by this light that seems to shine around Will. From her view you can only imagine that glow is fading.

She makes her way back to him, standing and smiling that smile that doesn't seem as enthusiastic. Always loyal, always there. She's more mature now, a girl of 17, and she knows, knows that he won't ever be the same. But she stays around, and she hopes that destiny and fate might just let one go on her, or maybe until she finds she doesn't need him that way anymore. He's all she knows, all she's used to. And she's scared for a change, scared for the same thing happening to another lover. Because another heartbreak would surely be the end of her, and she doesn't know if she's strong enough anymore. Maybe once she was, a little while ago, but any hopes of being like that are slowly diminishing.

They've been dating for 3 years now, and even when the love he used to possess for her is gone, she still stays with him. That hope that things will go back to the way they used to be, the hope you find in fairytales

He waves goodbye without even looking at her. Her eyes turn red but she shakes her head. She won't cry in school, she has to stay strong in front of others. It's the one thing that hasn't destroyed her pride yet. But you can pretty much assume he's going to be the one to break it.

Layla's POV

I never used to be this weak, this tired, this worn out.

And I remember when he loved me, when he cared, when he was kind.

For awhile he was able to be both, the hero and the guy who cares about the little people. But when all those comments about how strong and admirable he was always came in, he decided he like the sound of it better coming from the heroes and the people just like him.

I still hold on to that hope that he'll suddenly see the light, like it happens in the movies. Where he'll suddenly realize what he's been missing and how badly he's treated me and what I mean to him. But I suppose that's why they put it in movies, because we can't find it in real life.

So I keep trying, trying to hold his hand. Be nice to him, sweet talk him. Ask him to go places with me. But, he just, doesn't have the time. For me, at least.

When I'm next to him, it's like I'm wearing this invisibility cloak. Suddenly all people can see is him, I'm pushed aside, forgotten. A penny next to a one dollar bill. Worthless, and the better one is easy to see, the choice is obvious. But I try to pretend like it doesn't bother me. And still wear that stupid smile, waiting for that day when he'll make me bring it out, make me laugh, or do something silly. A time when I won't have to pretend to use it. But those times are over for now.

I always wonder why I don't leave him. Why I don't move on. But then I realize, where do I have to go? Who do I have to fall back on? Will may not be the best boyfriend, but he's there. He's the constant in my life. And what if I'm scared to lose that, it only makes me human.

Deep down, we're all scared to change.

And yet, there's always that one person, telling you that a change is in order, in need. That a change is best because it's time. But people don't stop to think that maybe we don't know how to be anyone but ourselves. That maybe, changing, is the one thing that puts our tails between our legs, and sends us running home to our mothers. Our confidantes.

It doesn't really matter, inside of me, there is that old Layla, she's still there. Waiting, patiently and politely because it's the only way she knows. But don't worry, she's keeping herself busy, waiting for when she's needed. Always waiting, always there. Never needed.

General POV

She walks through the halls and stops at her locker, picking up the necessary books. She turns around to go to her class and sees Will, talking to his 'friends' and those girls that throw themselves at him because he's 'The' Hero, even though everyone knows he has a girlfriend. If you were to ask who this girlfriend was. They probably couldn't tell you, some girl, some girl he's known for awhile. She doesn't really belong.

And so for once, she does not walk up and place herself beside him, she walks beyond and to her class. Knowing that no matter what, they wouldn't have noticed.

She takes her seat and starts to panic.

'Maybe he'll notice' She thinks 'He'll notice and think I'm being a bitch, he'll dump me. He'll leave me, for someone better.'

But she calms herself down and pulls out the homework that was due. Thinking and remembering the times when they were together and they were in love. How blissful it all seems and how long ago it all happened.

He was always kind. Caring, and there when you needed him. If you were sad and worried he would take the extra step, to make sure you smiled and laughed, just so he would know that you would end up okay. He always made sure that you were never cold, and would give you his sweater if you were, he would hold your hands if they were freezing to the touch, rubbing them to get the circulation going. Some nights he would take you out to dinner, just the two of you, even though two 16 years olds would look kind of funny in a gourmet restaurant, he didn't care. And his kisses were everything you wanted. Anything you wanted. If you wanted soft, he was. Passionate, needy, desirous, loving, funny, toe-warming, breathtaking, melting, exciting, assuring, captivating. His kisses were like no other.

And it took all of her strength not to cry right in class because the thought of it made her miss it with all her might. And it reminded her of how long it was since she had had one of those kisses. And it reminded her of their last kiss, how it was kind of like a goodbye kiss. But still warming to the touch.

And for once, maybe she thought it was time to start experiencing someone else's kind of kisses. Find out what they liked and what their weaknesses were, someone else to make her happy when she was sad. Someone else to make happy instead of a burden.

But she's scared of change and what it will bring. Hate, loathing, fear.

But for once, she's willing to give it a shot.

And so at lunch, she looks between two tables. Her boyfriend and her friend. Each represents something she's afraid of. A change, and letting go.

In a rare moment, Will looks at her, seeing her standing there, confused and torn. And she sees him, staring at her. His brow furrows a little, and softens, and all she can do is look at him and look away, and walk to the other table.

She sits down in front of her friend, Warren, and offers him a smile. It's not genuine, but it's a start.

He nods and says "Hey."

"What's up?" She asks, eager to rekindle a friendship.

"Well" he starts "I'm kind of wondering what you're doing over here."

She looks to her food tray and pushes the mashed potatoes around

She opens her mouth to talk

But he cuts her off

"But I know that's not really any of my business."

She smiles lightly, the one thing she's known her whole life, and says "Thank you."

He shrugs and she doesn't expect anything different.

And so it starts, that instead of meeting Will and his groupies in the mornings, she would wander her way over to Warren. She would give a shy wave, embarrassed for a reason she had not known, slightly because she always felt like such a little kid around him. With him in his tough leather jacket, somewhat ripped jeans, and band t-shirt. But he would never push her away, just sort of nod his head in acknowledgment and walk with her into school, close together. Like two lone animals, different species, but rejected by their own packs, forced together, but more than willing to travel with each other.

At lunch, the two were always together, sometimes not saying anything, sometimes going throughout the whole period talking, serious woman-man talk. No giggle giggle chat chat. The two were very comfortable around each other, and she was one of the very few people that could calm him down when his trademark anger took over. With a calm hand placement on the shoulder or a certain look that was admonishing, slightly scolding, but personally asking him to calm down, that she doesn't want him in trouble.

They made quite the pair, people would look on and scrunch up their faces, turning to each other and asking how they got along, why the hippie and the badass were so buddy-buddy. But the two kept to no one but themselves and the other. Sometimes she would walk the halls alone, sometimes with Warren. No one dared to make fun at the hippie when Warren was at her side, and occasionally she found herself leaning into him when certain bullies would give her that look, trying to hide herself behind her protector, he would take a slight hint, feel a small rage at the bullies who dared to hurt her and would punch them just hard enough on the shoulder as they passed by to them know, to back off of Layla.

But more than often, people would remember, isn't she the girl who's dating Will? Is she dating Warren now?

However, Will was one to notice it, and on a basis would feel a spark of jealousy, not because she was the love of his life, but he had simply branded her as his in his mind. That he was allowed to stray, but she wasn't. Some twisted logic like that.

And so, one not so lovely day, Will approached her at her locker, Warren absent from the scene, and bluntly asked.

"What are you doing?" She looked up from her locker and stared open-mouthed. Will Stronghold?

"Will, I, uh, what do you mean?" She asked, confused as to what he was asking.

"Are you with me?" He asked.

She didn't really know how to answer, but the last time she checked, they were, so she answered him with what she knew.

"Yes."

"Then why are you with him?"

She looked down to the books in her hand and shook her head, scrunching up her eyebrows.

"You just can't ignore me Will, and decide that that's a healthy relationship."

His turn to be confused.

"What are you talking about?"

She lets out her breath in a huff

"Not now Will, I'll go to your house later, you wouldn't want to risk your popularity talking to your lowly girlfriend. See you later."

And she walked off, leaving him behind to wonder what the hell was going on.

Later that night, she walked to his house. Unsure, confused as to what was going to happen.

She knocks on the door and stands back.

He opens the door and nods to her "Hey."

"Hi, can I come in?" She asks in a rush, somewhat eager to get this over with.

"Yeah." And he opens the door further.

They walk to the kitchen

"So what's going on?" He asks. Leaning against the chair.

"I can't anymore Will." She states simply.

"Can't what?" He asks, confusion ridden on his face.

"I can't pretend like you love me anymore" She admits. "Like I have no purpose but a symbol of the past. That there's an inner Will deep inside you waiting. Waiting for me like I've been waiting for you. But I'm done Will, I'm finished. I'm so tired of feeling worthless and unwanted. So tired of waiting for that extra bit of attention. I can't live like this now knowing what we used to have, how we used to be. Do you remember, do you remember what we used to have? How in love we were. And then you changed, and forgot. I can't keep pretending that I'm satisfied knowing I got to see the better side of you, it's harder." She stops to turn her head upward, trying to force those tears back in, her breath is catching "Because I see who you are now, and all I feel is blame, like the bitterness and stoniness in your stare is because of me." Her voice is shaky and teary, those tears she has worked so hard to stop, unwillingly fall. "Like I could have done something. Like it's all my fault. I, the last," She lets out her breath and tries to say one last thing "The last couple of months, I've been dead inside Will, all I could do was try to keep telling myself that you would come back to me. But you haven't, so what was I supposed to think, that what we had was worth waiting for, no. Will, they've stopped holding that important place in my mind, because how important can our love be, when all it does is kill me. You're killing me Will, unintentionally and subconsciously. And I have to do what I can to survive."

She wipes her tears and turns around, breathing heavier than normal. Closing her eyes and regaining her senses, feeling the soreness in her throat from saying so much when she's always said so little.

He's sitting down and staring straight ahead, in shock. Unaware that in all this time, she was losing herself and he was the cause of it.

She turns around and he looks to her, and sees her. Sees the woman who used to be that girl, his girl, before he pushed her into maturity, too soon. Always too soon.

She opens her eyes and lets out her breath. She's said her piece. She turns back to him and touches his arm. He looks up to her and stares.

"Goodbye." She says. And walks slowly to the door, looking upward slightly and feeling those guilt-ridden tears burn their way down her cheeks, biting her lip to keep from screaming.

She walks out the door and dissolves into loud heart-wrenching sobs, walking down the street, not knowing exactly where she's going. But in a way she does know. The subconscious has a way of working when you feel you can't, like when cats and dogs run away, but always know the way back, even though they've never been let out before.

She knocks on his door and lets out another sob, her eyes hurt from all the tears she's cried, the tears falling fast and hot, making up for the lost time she's never cried over Will.

He opens the door and looks at her, not knowing what to say. He invites her in without saying anything, just opening the door wider. She walks in and sits herself on the couch, he follows and sits next to her, waiting for her to start because he's not so sure where to begin.

"He didn't." She starts to say but her chest catches and she lets those fresh tears fall "Want me anymore, he didn't say so, because he didn't say anything." It's hard to tell what she's saying because she's sobbing and trying to talk normally at the same time, trying to seem a little bit sane, while she knows that she's a walking contradiction.

But he catches what she's saying. And he's thinking that this shouldn't have been a surprise, and that's it's harsh, but it's been staring her in the face for a year.

"It's just sinking in that." She closes her eyes and lets out a little half sob half sigh "That all my hoping, and wishful thinking, and being positive is really a waste."

She can't keep it in any longer "You were right." She cries into her hands "It's a waste to think positive, to keep hoping, I don't know what kept me thinking that I would change him, change him back." And her cries are long and painful, that he cringes and frowns and looks away.

And so once more she stands and moves to leave, but he grabs her arm and holds her close. Wrapping his arms tightly around her, resting his chin on top of her head, while she clings to his back and cries into the soft material of his sweater, relishing in the comfort he has given her. Granted her.

"Layla, you're not wrong for thinking positive, it's something that I admire about you." He struggles with words to comfort her, never really good at comforting females, or anyone for that matter, he's never had to. But for some reason she finds comfort and reassurance in him, she once told him that he kind of felt like home. All he could was shrug, not knowing the proper response, or even what it made him feel like.

Her wails have turned to heavy breathing, resting her head on his chest, tired, worn out, grateful, and he is rocking them slightly, unknowingly.

And not a word is said when he's walking her home, holding her hand slightly, fingers entwined loosely. But when he walks her to her door she says his name "Warren." With so much emotion, that he can't help himself and he kisses her lightly, a brush of the lips. But it leaves her breathless anyway.

The next day, they would continue their routine meeting up, and walking into school. But some things were different. The soft, casual glances had never been there before. Him reaching for her hand when they were walking down the halls, had never been enacted. And on the way to his class, the tender kiss on his cheek as they parted, was something entirely new.

But she was her again.

With that ever-present smile that could light up a room, her colourful clothing and flower pattern skirts made their way out of the back of the closet, and her hopeful personality and always positive advice were given to many of her student friends again. Zach, Magenta, and Ethan were more than thrilled to witness the old Layla.

And if you were to ask what changed her mind, she would simply smile a Mona-Lisa smile, shrug, and look to her lover. Explaining that, some things just happen, and were all better off for it.

She found something in him that she was lacking in her everyday life, something that her Layla, something that made her want to stay positive.

He was her energy, her life, her will. And she was his. Which if you asked him, was all he needed. To know that at the end of the day he was loved and thought about, kissed and cherished. It was his comfort to know she was his home.

The start of their relationship was not anything awkward, but slow anyway, adjusting to a new lover whose antics and pet-peeves she knew not of. Learning to admire the things about him that others often misunderstood, learning to love someone who was not Will, but someone better in their own ways.

And over time, the state of their relationship progressed and blossomed. Sure, they had their fights, they were two completely opposite human beings, and they had their disagreements, but they were too far into each other to not care whether their feelings were hurt by their argument. Making them gravitate towards each other, fixing and consoling any patches that had not yet been smoothed over.

He learned to show a certain side of affection concerning her and only her, which made her feel the most important girl in the world at times. And she learned to push him when he needed pushing, and to stand back when he needed his space. Which made him feel at peace, knowing he had someone who finally understood him.

They had found something in each other that they had lost so drastically. And with it, came the opportunities of a lifetime.

They dated the remainder of their junior year and the full year of their senior year. And before they both left for college she had given herself to him physically, binding them to each other even more than the power of their own true love.

I shouldn't have to tell you if they stayed together after that, because I should think the answer is obvious. If you ever want to know the embodiment of the saying "Love overcomes all obstacles." Look no further than Warren and Layla.


End file.
